All Logic is Freudian
by HappeDaez
Summary: “Yes, so I just had to ask, have you two…” France made a vague motion with his hand. “Done it yet?” What happens when France tries his hand at match-making. CubaCanada, lemon in later chapters
1. Chapter 1:Tension of the y'know kind

All Logic is Freudian

Chapter One: Noticing the Problem

_Disclaimer: I do not own Axis Powers Hetalia._

Watching those two, you would have to assume some things.

Like how Cuba would have that smile, the moment he realized that Canada wasn't America.

And how Canada paid such close attention to everything Cuba said.

Mostly, though, it was the personal space boundaries the two seemed to have around each other.

There were none.

Canada simply smiled with a pink dusting on his cheeks as Cuba hugged him close, managing not to flinch when his cigar almost bumped his nose.

Cuba grinned and poked Canada's nose, saying something in a joking manner. Canada flushed even more, and pouted cutely as Cuba sniggered.

Eyebrows furrowed together as he watched the two interact, France wondered why he'd never seen it before.

Cuba and Canada where so totally in love.

"The only problem…" France muttered to himself, still staring at the smiling pair, "Is that neither of them seem to know it…"

_I_, France thought, _have_ _some matchmaking to do_.

Canada felt a sudden chill.

_A/N: I'm sorry how short this chapter is. The next one is longer…! I just had to write this idea, and this wouldn't leave my mind. Hehe, I hope France doesn't mess them up _too_ much. Expect the next chapter up very soon. :D _


	2. Chapter 2:Intervention

All Logic is Freudian

Chapter Two: Intervention

_Disclaimer: I do not own Axis Powers Hetalia_

Sipping tea from his intricately-designed porcelain teacup, Canada wondered why France had asked him over.

It wasn't that it was unusual for France to talk to him; he talked with France quite a bit. It was just…this was kind of sudden. There was a meeting soon, wasn't there? Maybe France had something to talk about that…

Canada was quickly awakened from his thinking daze with a flinch when France leaned over, poking him in the forehead.

Smiling, the French man asked with parental affection, "Feeling tired, Mathieu?"

"Oh, no. Just spacing out, _papa_." Canada said to France, a small smile on his face.

Feeling pleased with Canada's familiar address, France took a seat in the crème-colored cushioned chair, taking a sip out of his own cup.

"So Mathieu; how is everything?"

"I'm doing pretty good." Canada answered. "My economy has been able to withstand most of the damage…" He held the cup in his hand, enjoying the heat emitting from the liquid within the white cup.

"That's good." France said. "It's nice to hear someone is doing well nowadays."

Canada nodded with his eyes closed and a large smile on his face. He took a larger drink of the warm tea.

"So, how's Cuba?" France asked, finally getting to his ulterior motive behind the meeting.

Canada nearly spit out his tea.

"Cuba…?" Canada stared at France questioningly, a telling blush painted on his face. He fidgeted with his fingers nervously.

"W-why do you ask?"

France smirked. He casually put his cup down on the table and sauntered over to the blushing Canadian. He put an arm around Canada; grinning mischievously.

"Just asking. You see, I noticed how you two…_interact_." France said, making sure to be empathic on his last word.

Canada looked suspiciously at France, sensing something was amiss.

"Okay?"

"Yes, so I just had to ask, have you two…" France made a vague motion with his hand. "Done _it_ yet?"

Canada's mouth dropped open, his eyes wide.

"W-what?!" He spluttered. "What kind of question is that?!"

France laughed, dropping his hands and crossing his arms. "A simple one really, I mean, looking at you two, you would have to assume some things."

"Things?!" Canada squeaked out.

France leaned forward, putting his crossed arms onto the table. "You know what I mean."

Canada said nothing.

Leaning even farther forward, France smirked. "So, what's your answer, Mathieu? It is really a simple question…"

Canada's face equaled one of South Italy's beloved tomatoes by now.

"I…" He finally began to answer. France listened in full attention. "Yeah?"

"I don't know!" Canada blurted out, tears leaking from the sides of his eyes.

France fell back into his chair.

"What…" He said; his question not a question so much as an expression of surprise.

Looking at France wearily, Canada quietly began to explain. France silently got up and walked over to Canada's chair and knelt next to him. "Care to explain?" He asked as gently as he could.

"Well, we haven't done anything while sober, but this one t-time…"

Canada brushed away a stray tear.

"S-sorry." He apologized. "I'm just really confused about it…"

France patted Canada's shoulder comfortingly. "It's alright, _mon_ _petit_ _chaton_."

Canada nodded. "Ah…so I was over Cuba's house…"

_Canada yawned as he rang the doorbell. Checking his watch, he noted that it was 9:00. He smiled sleepily. "Jet lag." He mumbled aloud. His plane had been delayed an hour. _

_Hearing someone fall and curse, Canada smiled. That would be Cuba. _

_His house really needed to be cleaned, Canada mused as Cuba unlocked the door._

"_Hey, amigo!" Cuba said, cheerily waving a bottle of some unidentifiable liquid._

_Canada looked at the bottle suspiciously. It was three-quarters empty, and with Cuba's slight swaying and focus on a little to the left of Canada, Canada could conclude that Cuba was completely drunk._

"_Cuba…" Canada sighed, wincing as he realized that he sounded like an annoyed housewife._

_Cuba grinned and pulled Canada into his house, his arm wrapped joyfully around Canada partly for balance._

"_I was bored." Cuba said, with a noticeable slur in his voice. Canada rolled his eyes. "Alcohol isn't the solution to boredom."_

_Cuba whined unhappily like a small child. "But it's gowd!"_

_Canada let out a heavy sigh and let his bag fall to the ground. "I guess I should help you go to sleep." He muttered half to himself. Cuba's eyes widened._

"_Yesh!" He said to Canada who ignored him. "You's should so help me goes to sleep." He began mumbling things in Spanish, which Canada also ignored._

"_Come on." Canada said, trying to pry the bottle from Cuba's reluctant fingers. Even after a minute of trying, Cuba would not let go of the semi-full liquor bottle. _

_Frowning, Canada tried bribing the drunken nation._

"_If you don't give me this bottle, I won't help you get to sleep." Canada sternly told Cuba, trying to not have blush overtake his face at the dirty implications of the statement._

_Cuba immediately let go of the bottle._

"_Thank you." Canada said, smiling up at the taller man._

_Cuba smiled airily back._

"_Go up to your room." Canada said, throwing the bottle in the trash._

_Cuba stumbled up the stairs to his room, and moments later, Canada heard the creaking that meant Cuba was in his bed._

_Canada walked up the stairs, making sure to not step on anything on the way up while resisting the urge to clean up at least one item from the forever dirty house._

_He knocked on Cuba's bedroom door, but heard no answer._

_He opened the door, and saw Cuba lying comfortably in his bed, under his covers._

_Walking over, Canada poked Cuba's forehead lightly. _

"_Asleep?" He asked softly, leaning over to see Cuba's turned face better._

_To his surprise, Cuba suddenly pulled him into his arms and with a yelp from Canada, into his bed. Cuba happily hugged Canada, who was now under the sheets with a half-naked Cuba. _

"_C-cuba!" Canada squeaked out in shock. _

"_Hmm?" Cuba asked; his head buried in Canada's wavy blonde hair._

"_When I said I would help you go to sleep, I didn't mean like this!"_

"_Like what?" Cuba asked, looking down to Canada, whose head was level with his chest, his brown eyes smiled at Canada, and Canada sighed._

"_Well…I guess it's okay if I stay in here, just this once, okay?"_

_Cuba grinned sleepily._

_Closing his eyes, it wasn't until a few minutes later that Canada felt a feather-light touch slowly traveling down to his waistband._

"_Hey!" He squeaked out, accidently moving against Cuba's wandering hand instead of away. "What are you-" He was cut off as Cuba kissed him, his full, warm lips pressed against his. Canada stiffened; but under the continuous pressure of Cuba's persuasive lips and hands, Canada eased, and responded slightly to the kiss._

_Feeling encouraged, Cuba placed his hand on the small of Canada's back once more. This time, he wasn't shaken off, so he dipped his fingers slightly below the waistline. Canada moaned lightly into Cuba's mouth, wrapping his arms around Cuba._

"…And then my memory just cuts off there!" Canada finished miserably.

France stared at Canada. He exhaled slowly, and closed his eyes. "It is alright Mathieu. Papa has a solution."

France stood up. He patted Canada on the head. "You stay here." He told Canada. "I'll be back in a moment."

It was time to kidnap Cuba.

_A/N: He-he, I like how this one came out. Review if you want Cuba to remember the rest of what happened. :D_


End file.
